* * *
‘Words alone wouldn’t be enough to convince you. If you want, I’ll take an Oath Covenant. So, let’s put aside our hostility for now and work toward the same goal. I look forward to the next three years, Sixth Humanity.’
Despite making such a grand statement at his first public appearance, Seohwa had spent a long time without an Oath Covenant.
It took three whole life before he finally found a proper Covenant for the Great Oath.
A contractual agreement, recognized by the system’s seal, written with mutual consent.
More specifically, it was a system-recognized vow: “We have entered this agreement willingly, and if either of us breaks it, we will accept the consequences as written.”
Since the system itself was the witness, the oath-bearer had no choice but to abide by the terms.
The person who could create these oaths was known as a Covenant, someone with a rare ability.
Because these oaths were binding even to non-awakened individuals, private corporations often sought out Covenants for high-stakes contracts.
While a Covenant’s rank determined factors like the length of an oath, the contract’s duration, and the severity of the penalty, lower-ranked Covenants were no less powerful.
Even an F-rank Covenant’s contract couldn’t be unilaterally broken by an S-rank Hunter.
That was why Covenants, regardless of rank, were treated with the utmost respect.
They were rarer than even Mages or Alchemists, with only about a hundred in the world.
And among them, only one was an S-rank Covenant.
Gaius Jung.
A 30-year-old man of American nationality.
Aside from being the only S-rank Covenant, he was also known for his striking silver hair and youthful beauty.
He always dressed in white and, despite his enhanced vision after awakening, still insisted on wearing silver-rimmed glasses.
But his most infamous trait?
He was a devout member—and a high-ranking elder—of New Humanity Sect, a notorious cult.
Unlike other extremist groups like Neo-Humanity or Entetera, New Humanity Sect wasn’t involved in terrorism.
But their ideology was deeply twisted.
They believed that Awakened individuals had superior genetics and should breed extensively with non-Awakened humans to phase them out, eventually creating a world of only Awakened beings.
They called this world New Universe—and justified even incest in pursuit of it.
People often wondered why Gaius Jung, an Awakened himself, would follow such a cult.
Most believed it was for the thrill.
Gaius Jung was an obsessive thrill-seeker. He would chase anything that entertained him, no matter how reckless.
And lately, his obsession had been sex.
He had joined New Humanity Sect purely for the pleasure of it—and the cult was more than happy to provide him with as many partners as he wanted.
So when the 6th-Rank Dungeon Committee chose a cultist as the Covenant for the Hate Oath, public outrage was inevitable.
“Are they out of their damn minds?! Giving a cultist control over the Hate Oath?!”
“New Humanity Sect may not commit acts of terror, but those bastards are filth—worse than beasts.”
At first, the opposition was so fierce that even extreme protests broke out.
“Gaius Jung has cleared three Rank-5 dungeons in the past year. He’s a lunatic, but he’s undeniably a righteous Hunter.”
“I can’t trust Haight. The oath contract is an absolute must, no matter who the other party is—even if it’s Gaius Jung!”
As time went on, the hostility faded.
“Even among Awakened ones, there are evildoers. What if Gaius Jung turns out to be another case like Haight?”
“That’d be a relief, actually. Even if Gaius Jung is a villain, it’d just be villain against villain. No matter what tricks he pulls with the contract, the only one who’ll suffer is Seohwa—so it doesn’t concern us.”
“Oh… I see. Then it’s fine.”
Eventually, the public, too, accepted Gaius Jung.
The Rank-6 Dungeon Preparation Committee was a massive organization that brought together the Awakening Safety Department of South Korea, the Danbaek Guild, as well as governments and major Hunter guilds from across the world.
They had used their full organizational power to manipulate public opinion.
From an expert’s standpoint, Haight’s oath contract partner had to be Gaius Jung, no matter what.
Haight was an S-rank. Naturally, the one who will do the Covenant had to be an S-rank as well for safety reasons.
Once the Covenant was decided, the date for the oath contract was swiftly set.
Seohwa heard the news just as he was exiting a training dungeon.
“Gaius Jung, huh. The fact that he’s a cultist is concerning, but if he’s the only S-rank available, there’s no other choice. Fine, I’ll form the contract with him.”
Team Leader Choi Jihyung delivered the decision that had been made unilaterally while Seohwa was inside the dungeon.
Seohwa simply nodded in agreement.
His clothes were in tatters, covered in dirt and bloodstains.
The aftereffects of training made it difficult to move his shoulders (this time, even his right arm was useless!), and he limped as he walked.
Underneath his torn clothes, deep cuts and burns covered his skin—he needed to get to the medical center as soon as possible.
Every time he emerged from training, he was always injured.
But no one worried about him, and Seohwa himself was more pleased with the Hunters’ progress than concerned about his own body.
The expedition team had been steadily improving, fighting against future versions of themselves created through [Puppeteer]. S
ince training began, three Hunters had leveled up to A-rank, and many others had reached B-rank.
At this rate, by the time they entered the Rank-6 dungeon, at least thirty new S-rank Hunters would be added.
It was more than they had planned.
‘This is the fastest growth out of all cycles.’
A few broken limbs were nothing.
If each fracture added another S-rank Hunter, then he’d gladly break his bones hundreds of times over.
As he looked at the excited expedition members, fresh from a month-long training session, he felt warmth fill his chest.
Was this what parents felt when watching their children eat, a fullness from nothing but their happiness?
“The contract signing is in two days. Before then, we need to gather future intel on Gaius Jung.”
“You all know just as much about him as I do.”
“Let’s head to the Awakening Safety Department now.”
“Right now?”
“The Director and Chief are waiting for you.”
“…Ah.”
Seohwa swallowed the words sitting at the back of his throat: ‘Can’t you see the state I’m in? I’ll turn into a corpse by the time we get there.’
If this were six months ago, he would’ve grumbled out loud.
But after nearly a year in this world, he didn’t even bother making jokes like that anymore.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Grateful for his S-rank body, he started toward the car Choi Jihyung had prepared—only to be blocked by a massive figure.
“Team Leader Choi. Hunter Seohwa needs to treat his injuries first.”
It was Kang Yigeon.
He stood firm, broad back facing Seohwa, as he spoke to Choi Jihyung.
“He suffered severe wounds during training. His condition is worse than it looks. Treatment comes first.”
“He’s S-rank—he’s not going to die. Besides, the contract signing is in two days. If Gaius Jung has any hidden agenda, we need to investigate now.”
“I’ll personally compile and deliver all the information on Gaius Jung once Hunter Seohwa’s treatment is complete.”
“That would be much appreciated. I’ll inform the Director and Chief.”
Once Choi Jihyung and the committee members left, Kang Yigeon turned around.
His expression was stiff as he examined Seohwa’s condition—then he flinched when their eyes met.
Seohwa’s golden eyes were gleaming, bright and lively.
“…What’s with that look?”
“Just realizing how broad your back is, Kang Yigeon.”
“……”
“It’s seriously impressive. Though I don’t get it… Why do you keep stepping in to save me from tough situations?”
Kang Yigeon had already protected Seohwa once before—two months ago, shielding him from a rock thrown by a furious civilian.
The whole world had been shocked, but no one had been more stunned than Kang Yigeon himself. Because of that, Seohwa never teased him about it.
“You don’t… dislike me? No, that can’t be right.”
“I want to shove my fist down your throat right now. Open the door.”
“That’s a bit too aggressive… But I wouldn’t mind you shoving something else in…”
“……”
“Alright, alright. I’ll open it, so don’t clench your fist.”
Activating his skill—[Magician’s Door].
Seohwa and Kang Yigeon arrived at the medical center’s infirmary.
The seventh-floor infirmary of the Hunter-exclusive medical center had practically become Seohwa’s personal room.
The medical staff no longer even entered, simply leaving gauze, medical thread, and other essentials stocked for him.
Seohwa immediately pulled off his shirt and sat down.
The first priority was stitching up the stab wound on his left forearm, which had only been roughly patched with sterile tape.
Without hesitation, he threaded the disinfected needle and pierced his own skin.
Since his left arm was barely functional, there were more wounds than usual.
Another scar would surely form.
Leaning against the wall with arms crossed, Kang Yigeon silently watched Seohwa treat himself—staring so intently it was almost piercing.
* * *
